


Talisman of Peace

by Teratostuff556



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alien Sex, Aliens, Exophilia, I started playing destiny again, M/M, PWP, Smut, Terato, Teratophilia, Virginity Taking, alien - Freeform, alien genetalia, alien ocs - Freeform, alien porn, alien smut, aliens characters - Freeform, and so i made this, have fun, m/m - Freeform, non canon biology, nonhuman genitalia, virgin killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teratostuff556/pseuds/Teratostuff556
Summary: A newly promoted captain falls for a dreg. They have a chance encounter in Old Russia where the captain was getting handsy with himself.
Relationships: Alien/Alien, Male alien/Male alien, Male/Male - Relationship, OC/OC
Kudos: 15





	Talisman of Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, sorry for not posting, I've been sick and busy with holidays! This is a fanfic for a change, and not an original fic. Hope you enjoy! More parts to come if all goes according to plan.

_ Captain…  _ These words dimly float through his mind as he patrols the cosmodrome. It had been a short time since he'd been promoted. He recalled the way his name sounded when he received his full title, Captain Zan-Orenis. He'd revelled in this change, this separation from the lesser. He  _ knew  _ he had potential. 

Though, he thought as his baser instincts clouded his mind… He'd had much less time to himself. But he must not focus on those things. 

He'd had a hard time reminding himself that on his latest patrol shift. He'd been offloaded along with a small team of a few vandals and dregs… The dregs. 

The  _ dreg,  _ specifically. There was that damned dreg, Alvrak, though Zan simply addressed him by "soldier." He wasn't even sure how Alvrak managed to be a dreg and wasn't just killed. He was ditzy as all hell, not to mention scared of confrontation, had an anxiety problem - not to mention had a fear of blood. He was alive solely by the fact that Zan had kept a watchful eye over him, saving his ass on multiple occasions. 

He had almost been demoted because of him, he mused. It was standard protocol to go to the medbay upon receiving wounds. It was to keep track of who came and gone. Alvrak was one injury away from a write-up, so Zan had agreed to patch him up. 

But then there was a dreg, one that had caught him stealing medical supplies and followed him to the barracks - dreg barracks no less, where he should not have been - and reported him. 

Would have reported him, that is. If Zan hadn't drug him out to a hive and shot him twenty times point blank. Overkill, he thought. He was getting reckless. 

He played over the scene in his mind, Zan stripping the trembling dreg to nothing, his smooth, pale skin, untouched by the sunlight, barely scarred at all… It was all he could do to look away and focus at the more important thing at hand, which was the blood trickling from Alvrak's wounds. 

But once he patched him up… He hadn't been able to keep his eyes from wandering then. He'd eyed him only quickly, but the images, fueled by adrenaline at the time, burned into his mind like a hot brand that was so deliciously painful and problematic. 

Alvrak's sheath looked more like a female vent, that was the first thing he'd noticed. He was so small, he could tell that through his smooth sheath. Zan's own sheath was leathery and large, a display of masculinity and stature. But Alvrak was small. Docile. Submissive. 

Before then he'd had doubts about whether or not he was defective. You know, a male attracted to males… But after that day, he was so, so sure he didn't care what anybody thought. 

Though the thought had never occurred to him that perhaps he was attracted to Alvrak, and not just his sheath. It hadn't occurred to him until the second time Zan had saved his life. 

A guardian, an awoken, had dropped in while Alvrak had been daydreaming. Zan knew he was daydreaming because he had been too, while staring deeply at the young dreg, which is probably the only reason he noticed the stupid guardian at all. Zan obliterated that damned guardian. Shot him at least thirty times or more, he had to reload at least once, things went blurry and he couldn't remember. Alvrak had gently pulled him away from the dead guardian. One meant more, they had to move. Zan had gotten so stupid. 

So stupid that he had decided to take a little alone time. His little squadron had taken refuge in the basement of a little rusty building. There were a network of pipes under the building, perfect to catch a moment to reflect. 

A concrete hallway was where he took his rest. His mind was still surging with adrenaline, but he was coming down off the high finally. He was trembling. The actual encounter had been fine. Guardians were strong, but they were not the be all and end all; Zan had taken them down before. But they'd gotten so close to one of his men - no, Alvrak. He could no longer pretend he cared about the rest of them. 

Adrenaline helped him fight. It helped him move quickly in stressful situations. It helped him ignore pain. 

But it made him stupid. Stupid and horny, he thought, as he checked both ways to make sure no stupid dreg would be peeping on him. He slipped his hand down to his armour plating. He was hard up against his plating, his sheath was parting for sure, he knew. It wasn't easy to maneuver around it to get a batch off, but he had become somewhat of a master in that art. 

He wrapped a hand around his thick member. He wasted no time teasing the lips of his sheath, but instead went straight to jerking off roughly. God, he was deliciously close, the rush of killing spurring him on more and more… 

But footsteps tried to bring him out of his euphoric, drug-like high, ultimately failing. He'd just kill whatever dreg came to spy on him. 

"Captain?" asked a soft voice, and Zan flinched. 

He knew that soft voice better than his own most likely, it was Alvrak. 

"Alvrak," he mumbled, but his hand would not stop it's steady pace around his cock. "What do you want?" 

His voice was low, husky, like his breeding instincts had kicked in as if Alvrak was a female. His four eyes flickered open slowly, one after the other. Alvrak was standing there in shock. Like he couldn't believe his eyes. Like he had never done it before. 

That thought pushed a bead of pre-come to his slit, along with a groan. Thinking about Alvrak never having touched himself before got him off in a really perverse way. He was unbroken, something to claim. 

Alvrak shifted and rolled his hips in the air, and Zan had a feeling he didn't know what he was doing. 

"What did you need?" he repeated, slowing his pace. 

He swallowed nervously, his eyes blinking rapidly in succession. "Can I do it too?" 

Zan had to take a breath to calm his nerves before he could answer. "I don't care." His eyes fluttered open. 

Alvrak settled against the cement wall, trying to copycat what Zan was doing. It was obvious he was new to this, and Zan couldn't hide the little smirk that rose to his mouth. 

He struggled to get his hand under his plating without taking it off, and upon seeing this, Zan sighed softly. "Here, let me." 

Alvrak was unusually submissive for Eliksni, but Zan enjoyed it nonetheless. He should really be mad that his men weren't acting as they should. He couldn't find it in him to care. 

Alvrak was smooth and soft and warm to the touch, also wet where his vent was undoubtedly dripping. 

He let out a soft little whimper, music to Zan's ears. "What if someone sees?" he murmured, pressing his head against Zan's breastplate.

"They won't," Zan assured him. 

"How do you know?" 

"Other dregs are obedient," Zan said with a sly grin.

Alvrak's face went red. He couldn't see it because of his helmet, but he knew it well enough. He wasn't sure if it was harmless embarrassment or shame, but he could see it both ways. Then Zan pressed a finger to his virgin vent and he jumped a little, startled. 

"Are you alright?" he asked softly. 

Alvrak nodded. "Y-Yes, captain." 

_ Good boy, _ he couldn't help thinking.  _ Such a good boy. _

He gently slid a finger between his lips and felt the hard presence there. Alvrak had a tight grip on his shoulders, despite their considerable height difference. He was letting out these little sounds, delightful to Zan. He was so submissive, it made something inside of Zan feel protective and accomplished to be so dominant, something instinctive that he was not about to deny himself of. 

But Alvrak's plating was limiting, and without another thought, Zan pried it off. Alvrak did not even flinch. He was too wrapped up in the sensations of his virgin entrance and member being used like a toy.

And once the metal was removed, Zan could see everything. His smooth thighs, untouched from war and violence, like a little talisman of his own, reminding him of peaceful days. Zan squeezed one gently and Alvrak responded with a pleading whine, desperate to be played with and granted attention. 

Then suddenly a sharp sensation wracked Alvrak's small body, dizzying him, almost knocking him over. He briefly realized he was releasing something all over Zan, and he clutched him tightly. 

"Look at that…" Zan mused, running his fingers through the cream coloured release. "You got me all covered in your pretty come, soldier. That's not very polite." 

"I'm sorry, captain," he gasped, nearly losing his footing. 

Zan steadied him. "No, on the contrary. Now I'm eager to see how much you can release." 

Alvrak was now overstimulated - as if he wasn't already - and sensitive from already coming once. He clutched Zan's hand, which stroked the back of Alvrak's soothingly. 

"Captain, please," he murmured. 

"I know you can do it, soldier. You're my best soldier." 

Alvrak mindlessly reached towards Zan's belt. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he wanted whatever Zan had. 

"Sir," he breathed. 

"Yes, Alvrak?" 

Zan knew exactly what he wanted, but he still watched Alvrak try to fumble with his belt. Alvrak was too embarrassed to speak. He thought perhaps he might show Zan what he wanted with actions instead, but Zan would not crack so easily. Alvrak for himself spread out against the wall, legs barely able to support his weight, and Zan fit perfectly between his thighs. The head of his cock was perfectly angled so that on command, Zan could effortlessly slide into the warm, inviting channel of Alvrak's vent. 

"What? You want me to fuck your tight boy pussy?" Zan knew his human vulgarity would get Alvrak off, and he was right. 

"Please, captain," he whined, as quiet as he could. 

Zan began to slide the head of his cock into him. 

"Shh, quiet, Alvrak. Everyone will hear," Zan coaxed, and he detected a tone he'd never labeled before, maybe affection? Tenderness? Whatever it was, it was working. 

Alvrak was whining and hissing softly. Undoubtedly it was a little painful, he knew he must have been a virgin, but he was sure his little dreg could handle it. 

_ So subordinate,  _ he thought hazily, inserting the rest of his alien cock into Alvrak's weeping pussy. He could feel the stretch, his cock against his own inside of his sheath. It was heavenly, Zan thought. Better than the satisfaction of killing a thousand guardians. No, a million. Murder wasn't even the same feeling as this. This was something else, it was something warm, cozy - he'd read about this, it was love. 

He was in love with Alvrak, that thought filled his mind as he released into Alvrak's vent, feeling his cock spasm and start to spill into it too. His sheath was dripping with cream coloured essence, the only sound to be heard was the panting of the older Eliksni and the whining of the younger. 

Zan wrapped his arms around Albrak protectively. He wasn't really sure why he did that, there was no threat. Maybe it was selfishness, but he wanted to feel close to the smaller body. The other dregs might have been his men, but Alvrak was his Alvrak. And Alvrak didn't seem to mind the hug. In fact, he clung to him for support. His legs were shaky and limp, he was sore now, used. Zan's fingertips danced lightly across the skin of his hips. It was new to both of them. 

"Can we stay like this a little longer, Captain Zan-Orenis?" he asked, shifting so he could not see his face, he was too embarrassed. 

"Zan," he corrected. "And yes. I'd be worried you'd fall." 

"Z-Zan," he stammered, and then paused. "Thank you." 

Zan wanted to say thank you among so many other things, but he remained silent for the present, pondering all of his mixed feelings. Instead, he stroked Alvrak's arms and shoulders tenderly, a word that suddenly had meaning to him. 


End file.
